


Draco and his Heart-shaped Cookie-cutter

by i_amtheoutlaw



Series: Draco [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: besties, emotional breakdowns, strange aftercare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 08:57:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4342199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_amtheoutlaw/pseuds/i_amtheoutlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened after Draco processed that Potter had gotten an eye full of his hard popsicle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Draco and his Heart-shaped Cookie-cutter

Blaise took six minutes and twelve seconds to finish his business and join Draco in the kitchen. Draco had been keeping track on his potions timer.

Draco scowled at him when he entered but managed to hold off the scathing, “finally decided to grace me with your presence,” before it could leave his lips. 

Zabini took his usual seat and stayed uncharacteristically silent and still. 

Draco continued to mix his dough, using his wand to slowly add in more flour.

“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” Zabini asked. 

Draco tensed but kept his mouth shut. Another long moment passed in silence before Zabini spoke again. 

“I mean, you have to have something to say . . ." 

Draco gritted his teeth and slammed the bowl onto the counter. Without answering he proceeded to levitate a roll of baking parchment over and cut some into perfect sizes with violent slices of his wand. 

"Draco, you are scaring me–-" 

"What would you like me to say, Zabini?!" Draco shrieked. "Would like me to yell at you–-shout at you–-tell you how much _you_ fucked up?!” Draco chucked the bowl at his head and, with practiced ease, Blaise caught all the flying items before any of them could do much damage; he even went so far as to hover the dough over to a sheet and roll it into a perfect ball with a few flicks of his wand. The action only served to further piss Draco off. 

“Well, get the fuck out, Zabini!” Draco shouted next, not quite sure what he was implying himself; the last thing Draco wanted was for Zabini to leave. “Not everything in my life revolves around you, you smug bastard!" 

"I know, Dra–-" 

But Draco wasn’t finished. He chucked every item he could get his hands on as he shouted. " _I_ fucked up, okay?!" Zabini missed one of the cups he’d thrown and it shattered against the wall with a whiny crunch. "Me, Zabini! Me! Me! _Me_!” Draco suddenly ran out of items to throw, because Zabini had them placed in a far corner out of his reach while he'd been lost in rant. Draco turned toward the dough, summoned his pin and continued to shout as he rolled the sugary shit into submission. “I fucking baited him, okay?! I _knew_ it was going to fucking happen! I fucking knew, damn it! I’m so fucking stupid!" 

Draco sagged against the counter and slid to the floor. He hissed as all his angles painfully caught the knobs. Zabini’s hand was suddenly on his shoulder and Draco recoiled, snarling out, "do not touch me!" 

Draco managed to break free but he banged his head on the cupboard door in the process. Draco heard Zabini growl and then he was ripped from his world by strong arms and a biting grip. 

"You do not punish yourself,” Zabini snarled and Draco flinched as realized how his actions probably looked to the other wizard. “Just cause you want another cock in you does not mean you can break my rules." 

"Fuck you!” Draco snarled back. “You would be punishing me if you knew what I did!" 

"Now you’re telling me how to feel?” Zabini dropped his hold. “Finish my damn cookies and shut the fuck up and let me speak - Merlin knows we’ll be here all night if we have to wait for you to sort your shit into comprehensible sentences.” 

“I thought you wanted me to converse, you stupid, bat faced cock sucking, toad eating Hufflepuff.” Draco sneered, but went back to rolling the dough all the same; the action felt good on his shaky muscles.

“I am smarter than you give me credit for, Draco,” Zabini had returned to his natural purr and began to circle the table. “You have a bad habit of treating everyone like they are denser than you are. When in reality most of us are less blind than a stone wall and possess a little something called tact.”

Draco glared at Zabini and the other wizard let out an exasperated sigh before sliding into his seat and continuing. “No. I don’t exactly know what happened between you and Potter, but I have known you since I can remember and it is not that hard to guess." 

"Do you even want these cookies?!” Draco hissed, pulled out his heart-shaped cookie-cutter and slammed the metal object into the dough as he envisioned Zabini’s face in place of it. 

“See, I knew you were about to get petty.” Zabini smirked and Draco threw the heart cookie-cutter at him and took out a plain round one instead. “And violent. You secretly love violence." 

Draco chuckled despite himself. "Secretly?” he questioned. 

“Well, you see, this is where you get hard to describe, my delicate pumpkin,” Zabini started and Draco groaned. “You love violence, but you are ashamed of the fact. However you have this fucked up defense that you use, where you purposefully magnify your worse qualities whenever you find yourself in the spotlight. Like, for example, how you always managed to make yourself look like an evil bastard in front of Potter and a scared little school girl in front of the Dark Lord.”

"Oh, really? What does that make me then?" Draco snapped out, then bit his own tongue.

"Both."

Draco stayed quiet because what Blaise said had interested him. He had never thought about himself quite like that, but it sort of made sense. He retrieved a freezing pan from the ice box and placed it on top of his work then leaned against the counter and gestured for Blaise to continue. He did.

“I’m guessing you ran into Potter outside Loony’s flat because you were sitting in front of the window watching for someone to come rescue Crabbe Jr. from your tub again." 

"I was not,” Draco protested. 

“You were,” Zabini claimed. “It is perfectly okay. You know I don’t mind you fishing for a little attention, but this wasn’t the normal ploy was it, baby?" 

Draco could not look at him suddenly. 

"No,” Zabini chuckled. “It was Potter you caught outside not some clueless muggle. That changed things, didn’t it? Hmm. Too bad you’ve been so very perfect lately or you really would have had an excuse, though I haven’t had to take your wand for months, have I? But you figured: _what could dear Potter possibly need more than a good mystery involving Malfoy to spice up his lacking post war life_?" 

"You figured this out all by yourself, did you?” Draco sneered.

“Well, that and Potter left this for you.” Zabini grinned and waved in a hearty stack of scrolls with one flick of his wand. “He highlighted some sections for you. Isn’t that sweet?”

Draco groaned and went back to his cookies, lining the pan with shapes and shoving them in the oven. “He didn’t?” Draco asked as he rolled up the extra dough and put it in his ice box. “Surely he knows that I know the terms of my own probation.”

“Oh, he knows,” Blaise agreed. “But he had to start somewhere, did he not? And knowing you, you gave him shit to work with.”

Draco sighed and moved to put the kettle on. He joined Blaise at the table after and said, “it doesn’t matter too much now, does it?”

“It knew it.” Zabini smirked. “Why must you proceed to be so bloody strange? If you were pissed at me for ruining whatever you had planned with Potter then why didn’t you just say?”

“Well,” Draco drawled. “It certainly wasn’t to spare you from anything . . . and that’s the truth.”


End file.
